


one if by land, two if by sea

by book_of_hours



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: (kind of?), Denial of Feelings, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Making Out, teddy has a really destructive imagination, yearning because that's what the heart wants these days I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25672276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_of_hours/pseuds/book_of_hours
Summary: “As the day passes, I pass, but I am elsewhere.”— adonis tr. by samuel hazo from “the crow’s feather,” the pages of day and nightteddy might just love lehends, even if he’s not ready to say it yet.
Relationships: Park "Teddy" Jin-seong/Son "Lehends" Si-woo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	one if by land, two if by sea

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing to say for this except that it finally broke my writer's block and also that my personal opinion about Teddy is that he’s very good at putting up a front, but he’s always struck me as a bit shy. Also I hope Lehends does better the rest of the split on HLE because they’ve been struggling :/
> 
> set during the tail end of the 2019 summer split and into worlds season for reasons idk
> 
> please don't repost or translate without asking first! thanks

“You look like shit,” Sehyеоng is standing in front of Jinseong, holding what looks to be a sports drink in one hand and his phone in the other. They’re in the waiting room just after one of the last few games of the summer split. It had rained that day.

Jinseong startles out of a haze and snaps his gaze up, “Uh, thanks?” he replies, worrying his eyebrows.

Sehyеоng narrows his eyes and takes him in again, “You look like you haven’t slept in 3 days and you’ve been staring at the wall for twenty minutes. Are you okay?”

Jinseong is slumped on the couch and seemingly listless, a prime example of exactly what a pro player shouldn’t look like, if they took their health seriously, that is. His hair isn’t even as striking of a blonde as it used to be. To Sehyeong, he looked flat and drained dry like something had been wrung out of him.

“He’s just mad his boyfriend hasn’t been talking to him,” Dongha pipes up from where he’s lying on a couch and across several ottomans on the other side of the seating area where they were currently occupying.

“Siwoo is _not_ my boyfriend.”

Dongha rolls over and grins crookedly at Jinseong in that way he does when he knows someone wants to punch him, “Who said I was talking about Siwoo? I could’ve been talking about anyone, but I didn’t even have to say his name, did I?”

Dongha’s smile is blinding and Jinseong wants to strangle him.

“Siwoo’s not talking to you?” Sehyeong asks, leaning in further to look at Jinseong and cocking his head to the side. “Trouble in paradise?”

Jinseong groans and covers his eyes with his hands, “There’s no trouble! I’m fine. I’m just tired.” If he were about two percent less mature, Jinseong might’ve punctuated this statement by stamping his foot on the floor like a child. “Maybe _you_ should stop worrying about _me_ and worry more about your play time.”

Sehyeong’s eyes widen as he laughs, “Hey, why don’t you just shut your mouth!” he says, shoving Jinseong’s arm.

“You bothered me first!”

“No, Sehyeong is right. That’s cold, Jinseong-ie, even for you.” Dongha unhelpfully drawls, picking at his nails.

“And point to me where I asked your opinion?” Jinseong huffs and crosses his arms. He wants this conversation to end _now_.

Dongha guffaws, “I didn’t realize you were in such a pissy mood.” He looks up from his hands, “Didn’t realize it was that bad. I mean we all have crushes but Jinseong-ie come on — the support on the enemy team? I almost feel bad for you.”

Jinseong grits his teeth, “I don’t have a crush on him though!”

“I don’t know, it seems like a crush to me,” Sehyeong says this time before taking a sip of his sports drink and side-eyeing Jinseong, in perhaps what he had intended to come off as playfully judging. How could he forget, of course, what people used to say about him and _Hyeongseok_ or him and _Inkyu_. His time on Samsung and in China was really not so long ago, after all. And what’s a little fun and a little playful teasing? Sehyeong is nothing but fun.

“Your cheeks are so red. It’s kinda cute.” Sehyeong adds and Jinseong, honest to god, blanches.

-

Ok, perhaps in all fairness maybe Dongha wasn’t totally wrong. 

It’s true. Siwoo hadn’t been talking to Jinseong lately, though it wasn’t totally his fault. Jinseong also hadn’t been talking to _him_. (Though perhaps it’s better described less as _not talking to_ and more as _pointedly avoiding at all costs_ , if he were being fair.)

The thing is Jinseong and Siwoo are friends and good ones at that. They had known each other for years, having played against one other since they were amateurs. They used to play lots of duo queue and in PC Bang tournaments together long before Jinseong was _Teddy_ or _Walking Nexus_ or _The General_ or any of the plethora of nicknames netizens liked to call him.

But sometimes? Well, sometimes Jinseong doesn’t know what to think.

Even though he hadn’t been seeing Siwoo in an literal sense lately, Jinseong still sees him everywhere these days. He sees him on the rift in queue and even more in person, he sees him across on the other side of the staging room where they competed, the one that was much too big and yet much too small all at once. He sees him in passing, on his phone, on other people’s streams, even in his dreams. More than a few times in the past month, Jinseong had found himself waking into the mouth of the morning grasping for Siwoo where he was hanging just beyond his reach. Though exactly what Jinseong dreams of, what they did, or more accurately what Siwoo does to him, was not something he likes to think about, won’t think about. It was too dangerous and scares him in ways he quite frankly has neither the time nor strength to deal with.

The truth of it is that Jinseong’s dealing with a lot more than loneliness. It would be easy enough to reach out to Siwoo and talk again, that is, if his stomach didn’t twist itself into loops everytime Siwoo said his name, if his heart didn’t ache every time Siwoo even looked his way.

Perhaps what terrified Jinseong the most is that he wants Siwoo, wants him in every way he could have him, every way he just never will.

-

> GRF Lehends: Jinseong?? 
> 
> GRF Lehends: why aren’t you responding to me?
> 
> GRF Lehends: respond to me in 5 minutes !! I wanna duo with you

-

“Are you okay, Jinseong?” It’s Coach Jeongyun who asks him next. He’s standing behind Jinseong, who had been staring at his screen in defeat for the last five minutes without moving.

Jinseong sighs, “More or less.”

“Rough game?”

“I think my mid laner had a literal death wish. I’ve never seen a champion die that many times.” Jinseong turns towards Jeongyun and shakes his head. “Never.”

Jeongyun pauses a beat, as if considering whether he should say whatever it is he was going to and then states, “I’ve noticed you’ve been having a hard time lately. Do you want to—” He grimaces, as if he knows that no matter how he finishes this sentence it was going to be horribly awkward and so out of place. “I don’t know, talk about it?”

Jinseong eyes him, not knowing what he was getting at but feeling embarrassed and all too seen anyways, “Not really?”

“Are you sure?” Jeongyun raises his eyebrows, “No strained relationships that need fixing? Or any counseling. I’m not one, a counselor, I mean, but I can try, I guess.” 

_Oh,_ Jinseong thinks, _guess he decided to go in headstrong and holding no bars huh?_

“I would prefer not to.”

Coach Jeongyun nods, seemingly anticipating that answer, “Well if you ever need anything, you know I’m here. But also let me just say I’ve seen your old games, Jinseong. You're strong, very strong.” He shrugs and continues, “Whatever’s bothering you, I’m sure you can match it.” 

He awkwardly claps Jinseong on the back and then disappears out of the practice room, leaving Jinseong alone and wondering if he was really that obvious or if his coach was really just good at seeing through him.

-

Jinseong is on his way back from the bathroom at the LCK Stadium when he sees Siwoo face to face for the first time in weeks.

“Jinseong-ah!” Siwoo calls to him, jogging over from where he had been talking to Dohyeon. “Where have you been? You haven’t responded to any of my messages in ages. Are you alright?”

Jinseong stares at him dumbly for a moment, not even knowing what to say or where to start. It’s almost shocking for Jinseong to see Siwoo before him after having not spoken in so long. It’s almost like he isn’t real, like he’s an illusion drawn straight from the deepest places of Jinseong's dreams.

“Oh,” Jinseong clears his throat, “I’ve just been so busy lately. Coach Jeongyun has been on our necks about practicing and it’s hard to really do that when I’m with you.”

Siwoo blinks innocently, “Why? Because you love me too much?”

“No,” Jinseong scrunches his nose and sticks his tongue out in faux disgust. “You’re a shitty support, that’s all. You feed so much they could make a whole buffet out of you.”

Siwoo shakes his head and tuts, “You know maybe it’s better we don’t stream together because then it might look like we’re close or something.”

Siwoo laughs and Jinseong is embarrassed to say it, but his heart is thrumming.

“But seriously, you need to respond to me. We need to play together again. No more going radio silent for weeks, making me think you’ve died or something, yeah?”

_Yes, of course. I’d do anything with you, even when you’ve been keeping me on my toes and I’ve not even fucking seen you at all._

Jinseong bites his tongue to keep the words from spilling out and shrugs, “Yeah, I’m really sorry. Just send me a message on discord next time or in the League client. You haven’t deleted me yet, have you?”

Siwoo shakes his head, “Oh Jinseong, I would never.” He grabs Jinseong by the wrist and tugs his arm and Jinseong feels like he’s been struck by lightning, “And I won’t unless you don’t message me back.”

Jinseong nods because it’s all he can do.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” Siwoo steps back and releases Jinseong, who nods and responds with a strained, “Yeah man, of course.” And then suddenly as fast as he had appeared, Siwoo is gone, fleeing back from wherever he came from as quickly as a warm summer rain.

Just as suddenly, Jinseong is left alone in the hallway, his wrist cold where Siwoo’s hand had just been warm. He rubs his face and sighs. (He’s been sighing a lot lately. It’s weird.)

Jinseong should be thinking about the oncoming game, the one which starts in half an hour, should be thinking about strategies, about Sanghyeok and Taemin and Dongha and Sangho, you know, his actual teammates and his actual support? But instead he’s thinking about how pretty Siwoo looks today, about how he’s always liked the way his natural black hair looks on him, about how he always has thought he looks cute when he wears glasses, though he’d never say any of this outloud. Jinseong mentally slaps himself.

Somehow speaking to Siwoo has made Jinseong feel slightly better and, at the same time, so, so, so much worse.

-

SKT limp through the rest of the summer split with much less grace than they would’ve liked. They play several sets of sloppy best of threes against teams that earlier in the year they would’ve crushed without any issue before they round out the season with a win and a loss in the final week and settle into a comparatively disappointing 4th place. 

Perhaps this will be the way this year just goes, Jinseong thinks, SKT forever holding high expectations, perhaps even matching them at first only for them to stumble in the end. Their wins during the spring split and at Rift Rivals did little to assuage him of their failure at MSI and that’s to say nothing of their recent performance in the past few weeks and even more their chances at Worlds. 

It makes Jinseong sick to even think about. In interviews he had always sworn that his time playing through relegation tournaments made him mentally invincible, but oftentimes these days even he didn’t believe himself.

-

If Jinseong were to describe them, he’d describe SKT as the team that always managed to claw their way back. They were after all, one of the oldest teams in the league and part of one of the oldest esports organizations in the world. Their history was legendary and thus, perhaps a bit sickeningly if only to Jinseong alone, they had the most to carry and so often they could not shoulder their burdens.

It’s really only on stage, whether the first time or the second or everytime after, that Jinseong realizes just how small he could feel. He was only a pinprick light among so many others, one piece in a machine so much more sprawling than he could conceive of. He was insecure, deeply so, his whole personality built on a shaky foundation and thus so often he found it prudent to hide behind this facade of loudness, of having a big personality, of having confidence even in places he surely did not.

So during the summer when despite their worst fears, SKT manage to roll their way through the playoffs without too many issues, Jinseong is at a loss. He doesn’t know if the playoffs bring out some hidden power within him or he just gets a needle in him to win or what, but Jinseong swears he hasn’t seen Sanghyeok play this well in years. 

He tries to keep his mind sharp and laser focused on what’s immediately in front of him. And perhaps he would’ve succeeded and summer finals would’ve been the only thing to consume his mind if it hadn’t been for the other thing, that is Siwoo, who he’s been speaking to semi-regularly again, at least, and the fact that SKT would be facing them _again_.

He ignores it for most of the days leading up to it, keeping his mind occupied with scrims and more scrims, on his teammates, on VOD review, on literally anything else, and he tries to avoid it the day of as best he can too. He sends Siwoo a few good morning and good luck texts and then promptly avoids his phone for the rest of the day. He figures that it’s probably better he doesn’t speak to Siwoo and have it remind him of what he’s about to go do.

He spends the last forty five minutes before the game glued to the pre-show, feeling as if every atom in his body was visibly vibrating while Sanghyeok gave him worried glances.

“You can do this,” he barely hears Coach Jeongyun say to the team over the sound of blood roaring in his ears and the flutter of his own heart, “You’ve been here before. You’ve done this and can do it again.”

(Before the game he’s interviewed by the staff for a video. _I think victory is something I want to show to my family,_ he remembers saying to the camera, slow and deliberate, choosing his words carefully even as he feels like everything else is falling apart. _It makes me feel like I am repaying the support from the fans. Like I did something for them and it was worth it._ )

After this his memories drag and scratch backwards with misremembering. He remembers being led out to go play. He remembers the lights, the screams of fans, Taemin’s words of reassurance in his ears. He remembers thinking that he almost prefers how it used to be, when they played in booths and not out in the open for all to see. He could hide and not be seen, not hear, not be reminded that there are so many hopes on the line (and so much money).

He remembers looking across the room and seeing Siwoo’s eyes shining with something like _admission_. 

And then suddenly, like two scenes in a dream superimposed over one another without any of the middle bits, the bits that make them make sense, there Jinseong is holding the trophy again, his teammates at his side and confetti floating around him like a million stars, on top of the world.

-

It’s weeks later when Jinseong decides to bother Siwoo again. This time it’s on the League client while solo-queueing one night. It was a stupid thing, really. He did it on a whim or maybe to stop something bubbling up in his chest. Maybe he would’ve done something else, anything else, gone for a walk even, to quell it, but the chat room was right there, bar empty and blank and blinking:

> SKT T1 Teddy: Lehends, at the championship
> 
> SKT T1 Teddy: let’s sleep together. 
> 
> SKT T1 Teddy: I’ll go to your room.

He had tried to twist it with all of his trademark whininess and make it dripping with sarcasm. Siwoo had responded with laughter like it was all a joke (and _it was, it was,_ Jinseong would insist again and again).

> GRF Lehends: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ you didn’t even have to ask Jinseong-ie~~
> 
> GRF Lehends: anything for you

Jinseong feels the wire strung between him and Siwoo pull taught and strained, like a trap snapping shut around him.

He grimaces at his keyboard and finds it within himself to try again and he types:

> SKT Teddy: Do you want to duo queue?
> 
> SKT Teddy: I’m not really doing anything right now

He waits a few seconds, watching the bubble pop up on Siwoo’s side of the chat as he types:

> GRF Lehends: yeah give me a minute
> 
> GRF Lehends: I was duoing with Hyeonjoon
> 
> GRF Lehends: but screw it
> 
> GRF Lehends: I like you better anyways

Jinseong gives him time to end his previous call and after a minute he hears Siwoo’s voice over discord, tinny and yet all so familiar. Siwoo is positively beaming.

“Hi Jinseong-ah!” Siwoo says.

Jinseong hums in response and then says, “I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Say yes to what?”

“Playing with me.”

“How could I say no?” Jinseong can’t see Siwoo, but he knows the face he’s making right now. The one where he raises his eyebrows and grins widely and blithely like he isn’t pushing all of Jinseong’s buttons, “You only just started playing with me again. And you are my favorite ADC after all.”

“And wouldn’t Dohyeon be so sad to hear that?”

It was just a joke, or perhaps it was just the manner in which Jinseong speaks to the ones closest to him. It’s like when he calls Siwoo _honey_ because that’s just what Jinseong does. He pushes and pushes and pushes until the other snaps, maybe this time until Siwoo would grab him by the shoulders and shake the feelings out of him.

Maybe it’s right about here that Jinseong realizes how truly fucked he is, that his time apart from Siwoo did absolutely nothing to change the way he felt and stop his infatuation with him. Siwoo is his _friend._ This was not good, he thinks, will never be good. And what’s even more is he doesn’t know why he does this, why he plays this game of cat and mouse where he pokes and pulls and then runs away just as quickly, always staying just outside of any sort of realm of comprehension, always just within his own comforting air of deniability because he knows he’s hurting himself. He knows that this will never end well and Siwoo will never love him back.

And it is _love_ , that is, because Jinseong does love him, but he can’t say it, won’t say it, pushes it back down as fast as it rises, as fast as it curls warm and enticing in the pit of his stomach. 

“Somehow,” Siwoo says, voice laden with some emotion Jinseong can’t manage to read. “I can’t bring myself to really care what Dohyeon thinks.”

-

After the summer finals SKT gives the players a few days off as a holiday and Jinseong goes home to visit his parents. He spends the time slumming around his house and going out into the city to see some of his old friends. Oftentimes these days, he’s so overburdened and overwrought he forgets he misses his previous life, in some ways more than he can bear to think about.

He misses the old Teddy, the old Jinseong that was there before _Teddy_ even existed. He misses his family, his friends, the way time used to pass unbrought and uncounted, as light as a feather, when his worries were always somewhere else in some other time.

He spends half his nights going to karaoke with his schoolmates to release his stress and the other half staring up at his ceiling counting sheep until he falls uneasily asleep.

One night Jinseong watches Siwoo’s livestream when the thought of him comes unbidden and slinking. In a way, simply watching him stream is easier, brings a sort of relief to him. He can see without being seen. He can trace the lines of Siwoo’s tired smile without having to worry about anything for once.

In the dim light he watches Siwoo dance across the rift, sometimes with spells or other times with knives and swords and staves. He’s duoing with Jaehyuk this time, laughing loudly and often about something he's said. Jinseong gets caught in the _aws_ and _ohs_ in Siwoo’s voice, in the way he enunciates vowels and wraps them around his fingers.

Jinseong doesn’t dare message Siwoo this time. He’s aching and lonely and he knows whatever he would say wouldn’t end well. He breathes something hard and sharp out of his lungs and then feels the pangs of guilt settle in after. He moves his cursor over the chat bar where he could type something, but doesn’t, and lingers.

-

Siwoo calls Jinseong the night before they’re both set to fly to Berlin.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Siwoo asks, his voice low and hanging, almost like he is afraid of anyone listening in and hearing his pure raw nervousness.

“Who’s to say? Not even the casters seem to know. It’s always a surprise.” Jinseong replies, modulating his voice in an attempt to be soothing.

“It’ll just be us representing Korea. Only us and Damwon.” Siwoo says this and draws in a long breath. Jinseong hadn’t ever heard him be this anxious. He wasn’t the type. Siwoo was more of a do not tell, do not divulge your true feelings even when you need to kind of person when it comes to things like this. (But perhaps, Jinseong thinks, Siwoo had a fair bit more to worry about. His team had just jettisoned their coach and was going through massive internal turmoil, something that certainly did not bode well. And even then Jinseong hadn’t even known the depths of the allegations until he had implored and weedled it out Siwoo after days of trying.)

“I know it’s nerve-racking, but I think you shouldn’t worry about it. It will only make you worse. I would know. Defeat isn’t something you should worry about too much.”  
  
“What do you mean you know about that? You lose but you also win when it comes down to it. I can’t remember the last time you lost when it mattered in a finals, other than MSI, that is.”

“I was on other teams before SKT, you know. You played against me.”  
  
“Of course I remember. How could I forget. Your glasses and whole look were just so tragic back then. But I wonder, it’s been so long and if it happens, losing, that is, would you remember it this time?”

-

> Teddy 박진성: goodnight Siwoo
> 
> Lehends 손시우: goodnight Jinseong !!
> 
> Lehends 손시우: dream of me~~

-

Jinseong is woken up at what he swears on his heart is the crack of dawn to get ready to go to the airport and fly to Worlds. They have been packed for days, so it doesn’t take much time to just get up and go, but international travel was always difficult even under the best of circumstances, so as the sun breaks over Ilsan on a crisp morning, so early the fog still hangs low in the street, SKT's players are shepherded into several large vans and sent off to test their metal against the other teams of the world yet again.

Jinseong is sitting next to Sangho when he suddenly and with no prompting, he breaks the silence and says so lowly Jinseong is sure no one else in the van can hear, “You’ll be okay right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know but for the past few months since MSI you’ve just seemed—” Sangho makes a motion with his hand raising it up and down like imitating a rollercoaster or the rolling of hill slopes.

“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Jinseong says, shrugging. This is very out of character for Sangho. He is usually quiet, sometimes even a bit disconcertingly so. He also is one never to speak his mind and is younger than everyone else to boot. Jinseong doesn’t know what he’s getting at.

Sangho tilts his head and glances back at the others behind them. In the soft morning Sanghyeok had drifted to sleep and was resting his head against a window. Dongha had passed out and was leaning against Taemin’s shoulder, who had sunglasses over his eyes and his arms crossed as he laid his head back on his headrest. The only person who was seemingly still awake was Coach Jeongyun who was sitting in front of them next to the driver alternating between flipping through paperwork and furiously texting someone on his phone. The others, that is Sehyeong and Minseung, were in another van entirely with several staff members and most of their stuff.

Sangho turns back to him, “We’re friends, you know that right?”

Jinseong nods.

“Well if you ever need to tell me anything, you can. I mean, we’re teammates and we’re in this together, I guess as they say.”

Jinseong hums in agreement and runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll keep that in mind. And I promise I won’t let my attitude get in the way. We’ll be fine.”

Sangho eyes him worryingly for a moment before nodding in affirmation and turning to look out the window.

Jinseong was still a bit unnerved, though he supposes he had been unnerved most of the time during his time on SKT at this point. Though he was never one to take anything particularly seriously, so he didn’t know why what Sangho said was getting to him.

But maybe Sangho was right, though, like Jeongyun and Dongha and Sehyeong, right about whatever it was they were getting at. Maybe they saw something that Jinseong just could not.

-

(What Jinseong remembers of this next part of the trip later in the winter, months after the end is this: he remembers how for once he felt like the future rang with possibilities, how he had so much hope and fear ballooning in the cavity of his chest, how he somehow knew he was feeling the high before the fall.

He remembers how he had been crammed next to a sleeping Sehyeong, staring out the small window on the side of the plane late late at night, the cities of the world glittering below and spread like a million beads spilled across a dark table, how he looked and looked all he could think of was falling.)

-

When SKT arrives at Worlds, they, for the first time in a while, start off on the right foot. They end up winning their first several sets of matches, despite being in group C, one described by the casters as the “Group of Death.”

Jinseong comes off a roughhouse best of 2 against Clutch Gaming punch-drunk and grinning. It was nice to see his teammates light on their feet again. Coach Jeongyun seemed to be almost skipping with excitement.

Before this he had only seen Siwoo once and briefly right after his own clean 2-0 sweep against CLG. He had been rattling on about how excited he was about their success against the heavily bidden and spoken about team from North America. Though, Jinseong had little time to speak to him at that particular moment. If he were to describe what his first few days at Worlds were like, he would say they were frantic. He was always being pulled in one direction or the other, from game to interview, to practice and back over again. Though before he got a chance to leave, Siwoo implored Jinseong to meet up with him later so they can drink and talk and because _the beer here is supposed to be so good Jinseong-ah! We have to go just once at least!_

Jinseong hastily agrees because Siwoo had just been so insistent that he had something to tell him and tell him _soon_ and they part to go back to their respective groups and, Jinseong supposes, their gauntlets too.

-

The sort of maniac energy and strain that had been pushing Jinseong to the brink comes to a head some time during the early part of the group stages. 

It happened one night after a round of drinking with Siwoo just like Jinseong had agreed to do days ago, in some dingy dive bar he couldn’t be pressed to remember the name of if he tried. What Jinseong does remember is Siwoo turning to him, tipping back a bottle of some cheap European beer bought with money they definitely didn’t have and grinning at him like he had nothing to lose.

Really he had never looked so beautiful.

With anyone else anywhere else, Jinseong would’ve never been that easy, but that night there was just something about the way Siwoo appeared to him, far too red and laughing, so far away, yet just within arm’s reach. SKT had just earned its first wins of the tournament and it’s so much more and so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. Jinseong was just so high off this fucking game and he didn’t know if he’d ever come down. 

Really all it took was the deeply bitter and cynical parts of him to be washed over with enough alcohol and his head to become hazy enough for Jinseong to pay the bill quickly, grab Siwoo by the wrist and drag him out into the street and back towards the hotel both of their teams were staying at.

Siwoo loops his arms around Jinseong’s neck as they were on their way home, swaying on his feet and almost singing in the streets. Siwoo seems giddy and lightheaded when Jinseong tells him Sangho wasn’t sleeping in their room that night. He was watching movies with Taemin and Minseung, since it was their day off and such little mercies were allowed.

Jinseong unlocks his door and pulls Siwoo into the slanted dark. Siwoo turns to face him, eyes half-lidded, a lazy smile on his face. He puts one hand on Jinseong’s chest and pushes him against the wall near the door and draws close, far too close and Jinseong feels his heart hammering.

“Siwoo, what are you—” is all Jinseong gets to say and suddenly they were kissing. Siwoo was flushed and warm against him and _oh this really is not so bad_ , Jinseong thinks, so much better than he ever dared to let himself imagine. Jinseong feels himself press back, his hands sliding against Siwoo’s sides, looking for some place to settle because honestly he doesn’t have much experience kissing anyone, let alone a _boy_.

Mentally Jinseong feels like he is on fire. Siwoo was the one to kiss him first, but Jinseong can’t find it in him to tell Siwoo to stop, that this is wrong, that Siwoo is only drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, what he’s doing to Jinseong. Because all Jinseong wants to do is kiss and kiss back and drown himself in it, be pulled under and under.

Siwoo brings his hands up to tug on Jinseong’s hair. He draws a soft groan out of him and Siwoo takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in and gasp Jinseong’s name into his open mouth.

“Oh god,” Siwoo growns, pressing kisses down Jinseong's jaw. “I’ve been wanting this, wanting you for so _fucking_ long.”

“What, you _like_ me?” Jinseong gasps out as Siwoo mouths his neck. “ _Why?_ ”

Siwoo freezes and pulls back to stare at Jinseong in utter confusion. In the dim light, Jinseong can see him so clearly, can see the sparse freckles scattered down the expanse of his neck, his messy hair, can smell the alcohol on his breath, can see the way Siwoo’s eyes look at him, searching.

After a moment, whatever he was looking for he seems to find because Siwoo shoves Jinseong’s jacket from his shoulders and pushes him back towards the bed on the closer side of the room until suddenly Jinseong finds himself on his back and staring up at Siwoo at a loss.

Siwoo kicks his shoes off and drops his own hoodie and shirt to the floor before climbing on top of Jinseong and straddling him. Jinseong wondered what he looked like to Siwoo, sprawled out underneath him with his blonde hair fanned out around his face, framing his head like a halo.

“Do you really not know what you’re like sometimes?” Siwoo asks, softening his voice and curling it easily in a way Jinseong had only heard a handful of times.

“You just get this spark in your eyes and you’re so sharp and you go in brawling and headstrong like you could just take on the world and it’s just like, I don’t know,” he huffs and looks Jinseong right in the eyes, “I want to have you. I want you to be mine and I want to _win_ for once.”

As he said this, Siwoo grows a bit sheepish and brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck. Jinseong almost didn’t notice him trailing off at the end, he was too busy admiring the nice red color that had settled on the span of Siwoo’s cheeks anew.

“Are you going to say something? You’re awfully quiet for someone who talks so goddamn much.” Siwoo says. He slides down Jinseong, his body taut as a wire as he settles against him in a way that feels almost dangerous.

“I think,” Jinseong says, focusing on Siwoo’s eyes so as to say what he means before it eludes him. “I think I’ve liked you longer than I want to admit.” Siwoo shifts, causing arousal to coil in the pit of Jinseong’s stomach, edging him along _further, further._

“But I know it now. I think I’d like to try to be honest this time.” Jinseong sighs and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against the bed, "I want you and I have to tell you. I want you so bad it _hurts_.” 

Siwoo hums at this and draws in close again to kiss both of Jinseong’s cheeks, who squirms under him at the attention, “Such nice words, Jinseong-ie. This is why I like you.” He kisses Jinseong on the mouth again and Jinseong feels himself sinking.

Maybe it’s the way Siwoo is pliant and needy against him, or the way he’s touching him, or the nice sounds his making, one’s Jinseong has never even heard before and that he desperately wants to hear again, but Jinseong would rather be no where else in the world than here, wants this to never end, to keep doing this over and over. But he’s quickly falling into Siwoo’s rhythm, how he likes to ease into it.

“If you liked me so much,” Jinseong asks, pushing Siwoo back a moment so he can look at him, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“ _Why didn’t you just tell me?_ ” Siwoo scoffs, smacking Jinseong’s chest, “Why didn’t you tell _me!_ Instead of, I don’t know, running around acting all cagey and unattainable.” Siwoo frowns at him and Jinseong is giggling.

“You’re a pain and a half, you know that Jinseong? I don’t even know why I love you.”

Jinseong curls a hand around the nape Siwoo’s neck and twirls his hair around his fingers, wiggling his eyebrows, “So you love me then?”

Siwoo growls and grabs Jinseong by the collar to shove him further up the bed.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he says and Jinseong doesn’t need to be asked twice. This is just good enough for him, for now.

-

(In the morning Jinseong will wake feeling trashed because _wow_ he has not drank in a while and _wow_ he really feels like shit, but Siwoo will be curled up against him and everything will somehow be alright.

Maybe they’ll stay like this for a few hours, crammed in bed together as the sky outside turns from red to a flushing pink to day blue and for once in his life, Jinseong will feel truly at peace and like he’s done something right.

Maybe later Siwoo will hook his leg around Jinseong’s hip and roll them over until he’s on top again.

“When you had told me you would go to my room and that we would sleep together,” Siwoo will ask, bringing a hand to the apple of Jinseong’s cheek, who will relax into it, just enough to be obliging, and then Siwoo will drag his hand down Jinseong’s chest and all the way down to rest just over where his heart should be. He will lean in to place open mouthed kisses on Jinseong’s neck and then whisper, “Is this what you meant?”

And he’ll slide his hands down further and over the front of the thin (the very, very, way too thin) boxers Jinseong was wearing, because _oh this is where this is going_ and Jinseong will keen and arch into him and then maybe Siwoo will kiss him again until Jinseong is trembling.

Perhaps Jinseong knows that this won’t last forever, but at least right here, right now everything is okay and he can live with that, if only for a while.

(Perhaps too it's this he will remember later instead, when it all falls apart and SKT loses again but to G2 this time, and they’re sent home. Maybe Jinseong will watch Madrid disappear below him into nothing but a dream to forget from where he sits on the plane ride home and he will feel his disappointment burning a hole inside of him. 

But he knows he’ll be back again, ready to fight just like he always is, and this time Siwoo will be by his side. He’s sure of it.))

**Author's Note:**

> (and I on the opposite shore will be)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Introvert or Extrovert? Either way, he's mine.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686433) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




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